


Ambre's Journal - The Gorgrond Campaign

by Astralune



Series: Ambre's Journal [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Laughing Skull, Original Character(s), Pandaren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:57:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7483239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astralune/pseuds/Astralune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambre, a Pandaren Shaman, participates in an alternate Gorgrond Campaign, where she learns about the Laughing Skull as she fights to save them from the incredibly capable Blackrock clan's war machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This set of stories were born out of a general dissatisfaction with the larger Warlords of Draenor plot, and in specific that of the Horde-side Gorgrond zone. I felt it needed more focus on the Laughing Skull, and that it needed to position the Iron Horde as a credible threat. Ambre is a character of mine - a Pandaren Shaman, crossed with a scientist, with a notable journal style.

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  23/05 22:05 Draenor time_ **

Wake early. Use local stream, wash dust from fur, hair. Tweak Air totem for drying; works too well, fur now fluffy. No time to fix. Gorgrond unforgiving, work to do.

Laughing Skull displaced. Iron Horde entrenched. Most moved on to Talador operations, still work needed here. Check with Kaz, still eccentric. Head out, northwards along stone path.

Lunchtime, brew still good, local oranges acceptable substitute. Evidence of Iron Horde raiding crew, follow trail to village sized camp. Fire signal gun, spend minute fanning flare embers from fur. Still fluffy. Wait two hours, Kaz and Draka arrive during afternoon meal.

Discuss situation. Iron Horde ongoing threat, too close to displaced Laughing Skull. Kaz eager for assault, Draka advise waiting till evening, reinforcements, scouting. Not sure how Kaz won over; fear to ask.

Approach camp. Several buildings, not short term camp. Backed against mountainside cliff. Suitable for repurposing. Sneak behind prisoner barracks, hide totem against wall. Estimate three dozen total Iron Horde. Nearly caught on escape; unsure what Iron Horde would make of Pandaren, but not eager to find out.

Return to Draka, Kaz. Two pawfuls of Frostwolf, one of Laughing Skull. Draka, Durotan, Kaz in argument; cut off on approach. Report findings, discuss plan. Prepare meal, open brewkeg for dinner. Laughing Skull drink, Frostwolf do not. At first. Prepare for battle. Check gear. Finally no longer fluffy. Note down lyrics from songs orcs sing. Wait for sunset.

Circle around camp, stealth approach while Laughing Skull and Frostwolf prepare attack at front gate. Iron Horde patrol competent, can only get close, not inside. Thank Celestials for earlier scout. Also Drek’thar for pointers on Draenor elemental spirits. Activate buried totem. Wait for long seconds. Hear crunching sounds from barracks, patrol moves to investigate. Sound of scuffle. More seconds. Laughing Skull prisoners finally skulk out of barracks, lead two armed with appropriated axes. Earth elementals evidently successful in  breaking cell doors. Fire signal gun. Hear songs again from front gate. Prisoners hear too, are immediately alert, move towards presumed command structure en masse. Iron Horde forces move towards front gate. Pick off stragglers with lightning, drop fire elemental in guardhouse doorway. Iron Horde reinforcements particularly slow, lose three to elemental before deciding to stay inside.

Check on front gate. Draka, Durotan, Kaz victorious. Most forces routed. Follow to command structure. Kaz moves to discussion with ex-prisoners. Draka checks for commanders. Discovers one Lieutenant escaped when lieutenant uses hidden Iron Star in mountainside cave to fire on camp. Stable building aflame. Prisoners charge to attack lieutenant. Throw Air totem to smother fire; unfortunately still set for drying pandaren. Fire is extinguished, but fur now fluffier than ever. Kaz makes sound not unlike laugh.

Camp taken intact. Kaz declare suitable as new base for Laughing Skull, since Deadgrin fallen. Durotan sets up Frostwolf patrols, Draka arranges supply. Make cooking fire, prepare stew and more brew for everyone for supper. Meals always make place more homely, even for orcs.

Prisoner barracks now makeshift quarters. Nice to have bed not made of blanket on ground. Nicer for Laughing Skull to have home. A good day.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  8/06 19:26 Draenor time_ **

_Returned from scouting. No changes. Attempts to grow spliced brewables still fails north of Broken Spine. Identical cultivar thrives south. Might be soil? Teaching Laughing Skull  horticulture basics slow process, progressing forward. Botani actions hamper efforts._

_Hak the Flenser arrived while checking orchard, finally. Getting used to names. Tried to pin down, ask for Laughing Skull lore. Laughed, waved off. Had to ply with new brew, several hours before willing to indulge request. Strong constitution for drink, comparable to Pandaren. Apprentices arrived, Hak asked for ‘preparation time’. Confused, but acquiesced._

* * *

It was late into the evening, the sun having set early, as per the season. Hak has allowed himself to be persuaded by the Pandaren to Storysing. Under other circumstances, he may have laughed in her face, or pulled his axes, but the fluffy alien from beyond the Dark Portal had done a lot for his clan, and - more importantly - he found her extremely amusing. He’d make the effort, and maybe she’d appreciate it properly.

His apprentices, Volk and Snakebite, had hauled out the spiked chest that held the necessary tools of their collective trade, and observing their work briefly, he gave a curt nod and a chuckle. They had matters in hand. Taking a Psalterium from the collection he sat down on a long-cauterised tree stump, bringing down his axe so the edge bit deep into the wood. He turned to the strange, nosy Pandaren with a wicked grin and began.

“You ask of our history, outsider, and that is ours. Ours for the knowing, but ours too for the giving, if one is deemed worth telling.” He took the Psalterium in hand, gently adding emphasis as he recites in the Tone of Ritual. “I, Hak the Flenser, Storysong of the Laughing Skull, deem you so, and so you shall be told.” There, that should have given Volk and Snakebite enough time to be in place.

Indeed they were, as the sound of the rattles, the traditional accompaniment to this part of the story, sounded from his right, his apprentices in their roles, Volk standing oblivious, providing the beat and looking around in an oblivious fashion; Snakebite skulking around, his rattle raised like a dagger, its cry the rhythm for the words his storyteller would speak.

_“Once, we were assassins and part of one much greater; Crag’s Eye was our name, and we were proud._

_“Our skills were oft demanded and by them we were known; The clans feared us in battle and thus were cowed._

_“But some among us felt the need of metal more than blood, and turned from stealthy hunts to smelting ore.”_

His apprentices had changed costume in the swift unnoticed manner of the trained performer - Volk now garbed as a traditional assassin, weapons quick in hand; Snakebite in leather designed to protect from superheated sparks more than stab wounds, a smithing hammer twisting in his grip. The two faced each other as if in conflict, a pantomimed sabre rattling.

_“We briefly fought amongst our own and spilled each other’s lives; But then Laughs-at-Death and Stonefist had a plan._

_“We split ourselves down equal lines -  The smiths to keep our lands. The assassins, they would form themselves a clan._

_“The smiths became the Blackrock, and metal do they still thud; the Assassins, now the Laughing Skull, to the core.”_

Having changed garb again, his apprentices now looked like the more typical Laughing Skull warriors, face masks in place and stalking in circles about their improvised stage.

_“We left to find land for ourselves that we could call our own; It was to Gorgrond that we bore our lives, Our stories and arts._

_“Here we claimed the jungle as ours, and fought fiercely for the land; the Botani thought it theirs and fought with all their hearts._

_“We fought for generations, wins and losses on each side, and laughed defiance equal with respect.”_

Snakebite has changed again, a costume with leaves and fern fronds strapped all over, and he and Volk stage-fought as he spoke.

_“But one day the Botani were stirred up far worse than ever before; the Blackrock, now of the Iron Horde, in Gorgrond had now built._

_“A massive edifice of stone, the Blackrock Foundry was here. The Botani were thus driven from their home of silt._

_“The Botani were pressed into our lands as a great tide, and thus our towns and homes have now been wrecked.”_

To the side, his apprentices acted out the overrunning of the Laughing Skull towns and defenses, the Botani driven wild, caught between the two different clans of Orcs and left with nowhere to escape except through the enemy lines.

Hak turned to the Pandaren. “You asked of our history, outsider, and that was ours, and now yours.” To the side, his apprentices shook their instruments in a crescendo of noise briefly, before stepping out of sight - moving, Hak knew, to pack away the tools of their trade. 

“The rest is not yet written,” he admitted in a more conversational tone. “Deadgrin was overrun, we were lost, and then Durotan arrived with you in tow. And now we fight to take back what is ours.” He favoured the Shaman with a toothy grin, turning as Volk came back, handing the elder Storysong a welcome drink.

* * *

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  8/06 22:08 Draenor time_ **

_Told history. Wonderful method, culturally significant. Will notate in appendix later. For now, drink, celebrate, rest. Tomorrow we fight._


	3. Chapter 3

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  19/12 20:42 Draenor time_ **

_Campaign continues. No notable change in expected outcomes. Blackrock continue to press on Highpass, Canyon and Tangleheart fronts. Third attempt to establish foothold at Skysea Ridge repelled. Need new-_

* * *

It had been months now - near half a year, really - that the Gorgrond campaign, as it had come to be called, had begun, and it showed no signs of coming to a head anytime soon. Gorgonna was no green recruit to such things, and the Laughing Skull had proven themselves a hundredfold as skilled at warfare, especially in the early days. They’d retaken back Laughing Skull territory from the Botani, and then the Blackrock advance, taking advantage of their momentum, good old Orcish ferocity, and, it must be admitted, the aid of  a few key adventurers from Azeroth. Beastwatch and Highpass, Tangleheart and Evermorn Springs had been brought back to Laughing Skull - and through their alliance, to the Horde’s control. Things had been going well, and reconstruction of what infrastructure the Laughing Skull had - it seemed they preferred a more mobile lifestyle - had begun in earnest.

Gorgonna started, an unexpected noise breaking through her musing. She was leaning against - sitting on, really - some kegs at the outskirts of their forward encampment, on the edge of what the maps called Gronn Canyon. And that noise…. Ahh. Rhar and his lot, sneaking up on the tent where the Pandaren Shaman was known to retreat to endlessly write in that book of hers. No harm there.

Well, no _permanent_ harm, and maybe someday they’d learn. She chuckled, settling back down.

It had been then, after a month or so of rapid gains, that the Blackrock had responded in earnest, bringing a seemingly endless supply of forces to bear - and why not, with the Blackrock Foundry, shiny and obsidian, rearing up over the landscape like some obnoxious offering to warfare? They had not broken the Laughing Skull offensive, but they had effectively stopped it in its tracks, and no further gains had been made in the months since. While their own forces were holding up well, the Blackrock showed no signs of weakening, and morale was starting to slip - not to mention the rumors that an offensive down south in Talador was about to ramp up, demanding resources and attention before this campaign was properly decided.

There’s a muffled thumping sound from the direction of the tent, and, pleasingly, a good number of orcs in the camp look up at the sound, alert for any threat it could signify. The shouting starts then, and Rhar runs out first, followed by the others, trying to run for it as best they can while laughing themselves sick, and here it comes - there’s Ambre, storming out, fur matted and soaking wet, looking for all the world like some kind of avatar of avenging wrath, storming after them lobbing totems through the air to bounce off Rhar’s head.

Well, she’s never burnt the place down yet, and it’s good for morale, she chuckles to herself. Deep down, she suspects the Pandaren knows this, but has never quite gotten around to asking her.

Gorgonna turns back to her charge, eyeing over the approach, and that’s when she feels it, somewhere in her bones - there’s a threat out there, somewhere, singing to her instincts of danger. Sure enough, a few moments later a scout returns, breathless as he dismounts his wolf to report.

The Blackrock are on the march, and in a force far greater than previous intelligence indicated were available to them. There’s no way they can take them head on. Quietly, she begins to plot out how to pack up the outpost and pull back, just in case.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the Blackrock advance makes significant gains, rolling Iron Stars across entire battlefields and forcing the Laughing Skull, and the Horde right with them, out of their recent gains. They pay for every foot of ground with blood, but the strength of the Foundry is - for now - too much, and all too soon, the Battle for Deadgrin is upon them all.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  20/01 14:12 Draenor time_ **

_Gorgrond campaign realistically failure. Early gains lost,  Blackrock show signs of only growing strength. Orcs seem to know, though brave front presented. Asked if I possessed awareness of “secret plans” by younger warriors today; prevaricated poorly. Attempted to distract, but singed fur or botched escape from fire only seem to happen when unwanted._

_To do: Investigate possibility of distraction totem._

_Plans are in place. Must not discuss too much. Elemental charged with returning this journal to Frostfire holdings in event of catastrophic failure. Hope to make report in person, regardless. Estimate decent odds; plan is creative, unexpected. Soon. Wish for luck._

* * *

Blackhand’s war had gone well. Once they were able to bring the forges up to speed, the early losses to those Laughing Skull wretches - assisted, he must grudgingly admit, by those frustrating _irritants_ from gods knows where - they’d been able to quite satisfyingly crush them under heel in battle after battle.

And now, all that was left was Deadgrin.

The need for battle, for conquest chorused in his veins, but his lieutenants had carefully insisted on scouting them out, reminding him that the wolf backed against the wall was the most dangerous. He’d acquiesced, in the end, and when their reports had come back, they had only confused the issue more. It was infuriating. Temptation reared it’s many-spiked head, demanding he let loose the Iron Stars of war, and rain terrible destruction down with a word.

Somehow, they’d managed to bring forces to bear that far exceeded anything they should have. Why hadn’t they used them before? The proliferation of magic snares in the jungle, the size of observed patrols and their frequency didn’t make _sense_. The latest report indicated artillery embedded in the cliffs! When did they build those? How did we not know?

He seethed. It _offended_ him - how _dare_ he be denied his rightful, glorious victory? And by an enemy who had proven so far to be easy prey? No, this was a personal insult, as grave a slight as striking him personally.

It had been three days now, and his thoughts had run in these circles all the while. Enough. He was Blackhand, with the Foundry and all its resources at his command, and he would _not be denied his rightful triumph_. The days had only allowed for that much more reinforcement of his own, and blood bayed for blood. He gave the order. No more _waiting_. They attack _now_. Damn the losses, he would end this today and spend the next week celebrating his inevitable victory.

* * *

_“We have been FOOLED!”_

They. Weren’t. Here.

_THEY WEREN’T HERE!_

They’d  charged towards the Deadgrin defences, expecting heavy fire, and while it _looked_ like they had lit their cannons, none in the vanguard fell. Some traps had fired, snaring a few, but not nearly as many as expected. Arcane bolts that spat across the sky had proven to be nothing more than a light show. And in the chaos of their entire forces trying to enter Deadgrin all at once, it had taken too many moments - an eternity, with his bloodlust in full swing - to confirm what was increasingly _bloody obvious._

How? How was it that not a single enemy was in Deadgrin?

* * *

**_Journal entry, Mist extrinsic (primary temporal rail extrinsic - Iron Horde exigency)  23/01 10:26 Draenor time_ **

_Plans successfully implemented. Illusions, disguises, traps  set. Very tiring work. Forces evacuated covertly south, transferring to Talador. Laughing Skull particularly saddened by necessity, but saw little gain in dying, promise in future opportunities. Will support Horde in greater Draenor efforts going forward. Gorgrond conceded as Iron Horde territory for now. Intent to return in future, will need strategy to handle Foundry._

_Talador welcome change. Jungle humidity, bugs not prevalent here. Gorgrond loss is lamentable, but still much good to be done. Auchindoun intriguing, Draenei history abundant. Much to study, many Iron Horde to thwart._

_Day begins. Time to check on brew._


End file.
